BERLIN 1987

            In June of 1987 I traveled to Berlin with novelist, Laurence Snelling. We stayed at the home of the Commander of the Allied Forces in that divided city; a fellow Larry knew. I was struck by the beauty of this thirteenth century city’s parks, wide boulevards, and new modern buildings. One day we crossed into East Berlin or the Russian Sector where the contrast between an oligarchy and a democracy was never so stark.   

            As soon as we passed through Checkpoint Charlie, it appeared that a pall was draped over the Eastern Sector and hung there like a smoke filled room. Eating at the best East German restaurant, I was appalled at the paucity of selection on the small menu and the inflated prices charged for this terrible meal. It reminded me of how spoiled we Americans are and how we take for granted our lifestyles without a second’s hesitation.

            But the highlight of the trip was a visit to the Brandenburg Gate where we sat in VIP seats and listened to the President of the United States deliver what has become one of the greatest speeches in modern history. Yes, I was there when The Gipper delivered his twenty-seven minute tirade against the Soviet Union.  Actually shook his hand as he descended from the dais. He received a more boisterous reaction from the crowd when he said “Open this gate, Mister Gorbachev,” than Kennedy did when he implored the Soviets to tear down the wall they had erected in 1961.  I also remember him saying that because the United States would remain militarily strong, the Soviets would return to the negotiating table on nuclear arms. They did, shortly thereafter. But in our era of proliferating nuclear arms, it is an ominous specter who roams our globe as more and more countries develop nuclear capabilities with impotent powers helpless to stop them. It’s only a matter of time before one of them becomes our Armageddon.

            Two other things are lodged in my memory about the Berlin trip. Larry and I ventured to the outside of Spandau Prison where Rudolph Hess was the last remaining Nazi prisoner housed there. Unfortunately, the Russians were on duty that day and we were not permitted to enter the prison. Hess died two months later and the castle-like building was demolished.

            One day, Larry said to me, “Let’s go find the place where the Nazis murdered Claus von Stauffenberg. He was the handsome and badly crippled Colonel who set the charge in the Wolf’s Lair that wounded, but failed to kill, The Fuhrer, and cost von Stauffenberg his life. We found the place where he was shot and it was located in the headquarters of the communist party in Berlin. I guess things never change. Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.